Downed Once More
by jkkitty1
Summary: Posted on LJ Section 7 for PicFic Tuesday. Napoleon and Illya survive a helicopter crash and let's the quotes fly.


"I thought you said you could fly this thing," Solo complained as he shook his head to clear it.

"I did fly it," Kuryakin shot back trying to wipe the blood flowing into his eyes from hitting his head on the window.

"Next time, I'll be more specific and ask if you can land it." Solo replied checking himself over to see if anything was broken.

""Well I did get us down in one piece. Next time. hopefully, we will not have to steal one or have Thrush shooting at us. Besides while I blew up the lab, you were supposed to have taken out their guns."

"I did; they must've had one I didn't see."

Moving his leg, Solo groaned in pain.

"Napoleon?"

"I broke my left leg. Darn, you're going to have to get the info to UNCLE, and when you can get a signal on your communicator send help back for me. I won't be able to walk."

They had found a Thrush jamming net over the area when they tried to call out earlier to report they were on their way home in a stolen copter.

"Well, there is a small problem with that."

"What's else could go wrong?"

"I have broken my right leg and my vision is blurred." Kuryakin said moaning as he tried to move.

The men looked at each other. Struck in the forest, helicopter wrecked, and Thrush no doubt on their tails and getting to the original pick up point was not very promising. The information they had stolen would be highly prized by that organization, and they'd probably do anything to get it back.

"I guess we'll have to get out of this together."

"As we normally do," the Russian agreed.

Pulling themselves out of the cockpit, they looked through the wreckage until they found pieces of the helicopter that could be used as splints. Helping one another, they splinted their legs then headed deeper into the woods that would take them to their rendezvous.

…..

Hours later, exhausted from holding one another up, their broken legs between them, the two agreed to rest for a while.

"Well, here's another nice mess **you**'ve**gotten us into**," Napoleon said with a small laugh.

"Excuse me, I find nothing funny about the situation." Anger tinted Illya's words.

"Sorry tovarisch, I wasn't criticizing you. It's something that Laurel and Hardy always said when things went wrong."

"And you picked this place and time to think about it?"

"Well it seems we do get into messes more frequently than others."

"That is because we get the most dangerous assignments, and Thrush does not appreciate our talents."

"You mean your ability to blow up anything that belongs to them?"

"Or your ability to walk right into their midst and not be seen."

"We're good at what we do, aren't we?" Napoleon smiled at the thought.

Rustlings in the area brought them back to the realization of where they were and how dangerous it was to remain there.

"Well my friend, we have a saying in Russia, _Problema ne prikhodit odna_ (Trouble never comes alone) so I suggest that we get moving."

"You know by the time we realize we're in trouble, it's too late to stop it from happening," Napoleon threw out one more saying he had heard.

"Could you save your quotes for a more appropriate time?"

The sounds increased. "How many do you think are following us?"

"All that were left alive I would imagine, and they are beginning to get on my nerves."

"Look who's using quotes now. What do you want to do?"

"Napoleon, you are always saying you are the strategist. Think of something."

"Go out guns blazing?"

"Napoleon be serious!"

"Surrender?"

"Do you have anything constructive to contribute to this discussion?"

"Well we could try to take them."

Illya took a deep breath. He hated when Napoleon got into one of his moods, "How about we stay hidden and avoid them?"

"My next choice."

The men hid in the brush hoping that the search party would pass them by. Abruptly feet could be seen standing before them.

"Napoleon, Illya we've been looking for you all over." April said looking down into the brush.

"Didn't you hear your communicators govs?" Mark asked

Illya attempted to remove his communicator out of his pocket to find it missing. Napoleon searched his pockets to realize he didn't have his either.

Red faced the American and Russian helped one another stand and faced their rescuers.

"We must have lost them when we left the copter," Illya said shrugging his shoulders.

"How did you find us? I mean we walked for hours toward the pickup area." Napoleon was happy to see them but was puzzled.

April shook her head as they helped the injured agents up the hill. At the top of it, she pointed; before them was the crashed copter.

"Napoleon, I assume you were directing this escape." She said with a smirk.

He knew that he would have a hard time living this one down.

"Well, Illya didn't say we weren't going in the right direction," he sulked.

"My vision is blurred, my friend. You cannot blame me for this foul up." Illya said allowing Mark to help him back to the wreckage.

Helped by April, Napoleon suddenly smiled.

"What do you find to smile about in this situation?" Illya demanded.

"I just thought of a quote by Robert Block, 'If you can smile when things go wrong, you have something else in mind to blame.' And tovarisch I have a perfect excuse." He said as he continues toward their transportation.

"He wouldn't tell Waverly a lie, would he?" Mark asked Illya.

"Napoleon is the master of deception, and has no qualms about using it." He said following his partner down the hill knowing that once more the master of deceit was planning a way to depict the situation to the old man without getting into trouble.


End file.
